


The purpose of this party is to celebrate!

by revolution_but_civilization



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: ALL HAIL, F/M, Fluff, Glow Cloud, He just is, I Tried, M/M, Multi, Night Vale References, She seems cool, What am I doing, anyway, because I said so, but cosette would, courfeyrac is hyper, happiness, have i ever mentioned how much i love night vale, i don't like steve carlsberg, i hold grudges for a long time, it's for ACCURACY, it's musichetta's cat, janice though, joly is a sink, marius would not survive a NCVR internship, or anything, prouvaire is the glow cloud, putting flour in your bf's hair is not a good idea, she is our queen, so i don't like him, thank you night vale transcripts, that is non-debatable, that's all, there's a cat, we stan cosette too, we stan prouvaire, with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolution_but_civilization/pseuds/revolution_but_civilization
Summary: Les Amis and Co. have a Night Vale party!That's it.Maybe not my best work, but it was really fun to write.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	The purpose of this party is to celebrate!

**Author's Note:**

> who was dressed up as who (poor feuilly I forgot to write him in) (want to ask why I picked who I did to be who? feel free! I am friendly and like talking!) :  
> Courfeyrac – Cecil  
> Combeferre – Carlos  
> Enjolras – Kevin  
> Grantaire – Hooded Figure  
> Prouvaire – Glow Cloud  
> Bahorel – Hiram McDaniels  
> Feuilly – John Peters, you know, the farmer  
> Joly – The sink in the men’s bathroom (he carries the cat around despite being allergic to cats)(he just really likes cats)  
> Bossuet – Erika  
> Musichetta – Old Woman Josie  
> Éponine – The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home  
> Cosette – Dana  
> Marius – Intern Chad (he carries a tennis racket and looks confused)  
> Azelma – Tamika Flynn  
> Gavroche – an agent from the Vague, Yet Menacing, Government Agency  
> Musichetta’s cat – Khoshekh

“And, because she’s a thousand times more likely than her boyfriend to survive an NVCR internship—” Marius looked distraught upon hearing that. “I nominate Cosette Fauchelevent to the role of Dana the intern!”

A round of cheers arose, and Cosette briefly acknowledged them with a curtsey and then a wink to Courfeyrac. “I’m honored.”

Courfeyrac grinned back, then looked down at his list. “Ladies, gentlemen, and Glow Clouds, onto our last assignment.”

From his seat at the back of the room, Enjolras looked alarmed. Obviously this assignment would be his, as everyone else had already got theirs. And when Courfeyrac looked that excited, surely nothing good would come of it.

“Despite looking in no way like a plausible double of myself…” Enjolras knew he really shouldn’t have agreed to this. He could tell where this was going, and he didn’t like it. “…I am pleased to announce that our dear friend Enjolras, through the power of his _beautiful_ smile alone…” Everyone else laughed at that, which in no way helped ease Enjolras’ nerves and only confirmed what he thought was coming. “…has won the coveted role of Kevin!”

“Ohhh my God,” Prouvaire burst out, folding over in laughter. This sentiment was echoed throughout the room. Bahorel came over to clap Enjolras on the back.

“Hey, cheer up. We can’t have our Kevin looking sad, now can we?”

“I am going to murder someone,” Enjolras muttered from where he had buried his head in his hands, earning him another chuckle from everyone nearby.

“Now that’s the spirit!” Bahorel exclaimed, patting him again and then being swept off to confer with Prouvaire about their costume plans.

Courfeyrac seemed to materialize in front of the table, a hopeful grin plastered on his face, and Enjolras immediately shook his head. “Thanks but no.”

His friend pouted. “Please!”

“No way.”

“Pleaseeeee!”

“Still no.”

“Pretty please with cherries on top?” Courfeyrac accompanied this last plea with his patent puppy-dog eyes, leaning on one elbow, and Enjolras sighed.

“I don’t… why do you need me to be such a big role? I could just be… uh… Steve Carlsberg?”

Courfeyrac groaned in disappointment. “ _Ugh_ , Steve Carlsberg. Despite his character development, I still hold a grudge against him. No, you’re our Kevin. Look on the bright side! I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes so we can have similar outfits.”

“Only you could think that’s an incentive,” Enjolras replied, a smile creeping into his voice. With one more well-timed pout from Courfeyrac, he finally acquiesced. “Okay. I’ll be Kevin.”

“Woohoo!” Courfeyrac cheered, pumping his fist. “Perfect!” He bounded back up to the front of the room, grabbing the attention of the room for a second time. “Hey guys!” he proclaimed. “It’s all figured out now, and our reluctant Kevin is on board! Now, get out there and get ready! The party is only two weeks away, and goodnight Night Vale!”

“Since you’re so cheery, maybe we should have made _you_ Kevin, huh?” Combeferre interjected as the room started to clear out, linking arms with his boyfriend, who gasped as though he had been utterly betrayed.

“Ex _cu_ se you. I got this position sheerly out of merit and because I came up with this idea in the first place. Also because you’re the most science-y person we’ve got, and I’m dating you.” He pursed his lips and considered for a couple seconds, before beaming again. “How many times do you think I can say ‘neat’ at the party? I’m betting about a hundred.”

\---

“Does this look alright?” Enjolras asked, turning back and forth in front of the mirror. Grantaire looked up from his phone and muttered some noise of approval before tugging his hood over his curls.

Enjolras frowned at his reflection, pulling the hem of his sweater down, then shrugged. “I suppose this is the best I’ll do. Man, I love Courfeyrac to death, but he’s so freaking _tiny_. These clothes hardly fit.” He looked at Grantaire through the mirror and tilted his head to one side. “It feels good to have a crime-free tomorrow, doesn't it?” he said, raising his voice up the octave.

From his perch on the bed, Grantaire shivered, then grinned. “Perfect. And terrifying.”

The other young man scoffed, running his fingers through his hair. “The eyes are still off though. Well. I’ve done the best I can do.” He turned around upon seeing Grantaire’s guilty look. “What?”

“I might have something to fix that…” Grantaire said, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing a container. “Black contacts?”

“You didn’t!” Enjolras rushed over to snatch the container, then rushed back to the mirror. “Cool,” he muttered, carefully putting the contacts in.

Several minutes, and one definitely-not-dropped-contact, later, Enjolras turned back to face Grantaire. “Better? Uh…” He cleared his throat dramatically. “What an exciting and productive week we have coming up here in the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area!”

“Even better!” Grantaire hopped up to his feet, extending one arm chivalrously to Enjolras. “Shall we go, fair voice of Desert Bluffs?”

Enjolras accepted his arm with a bright smile. “We shall, mysterious hooded figure.” Grantaire only replied with a vague, staticky noise.

\---

“Hold stiiiiill,” Courfeyrac whined, a clump of flour in his hand. Combeferre laughed and ducked out of his boyfriend’s reach.

“This violates the Geneva Conventions! My hair is fine the way it is.”

Courfeyrac pouted. “Of course it is. It’s perfect. But… wait a sec.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through with one hand while still holding flour in the other. “Ahah!” he cried triumphantly and shoved the phone at his boyfriend. “Right there, and I quote. ‘not to ignore the dignified, if premature, touch of grey in the temples.’ Therefore, I have to put flour in your hair.”

“Fine, fine.” Combeferre crossed his arms and let Courfeyrac dust his hair with the flour. “You know it’s going to stop being visible in like an hour.”

“Yeah, I know.” Courfeyrac stuck his tongue out and stepped back, nodding to himself. “Very nice.”

The apartment doorbell buzzed, and Courfeyrac kissed Combeferre’s cheek before running off to finalize just a few more things in the living room.

\---

“Oh, hey, you look nice!” Cosette said, coming up behind Prouvaire with Marius in tow.

Prouvaire grinned, twirling as much as they could in the small hallway. “All hail?”

“ALL HAIL!” shouted Cosette and Marius in unison before they both high-fived Prouvaire. “You really do look amazing. How’d you figure out that costume?”

“I helped!” Bahorel exclaimed as he joined the group, fake heads bobbing back and forth.

By the time Courfeyrac opened the door, the rest of the Amis had arrived and made the requisite comments on each other’s costumes.

“Hey!” Courfeyrac exclaimed, backing up to let in the crowd. He squinted suspiciously at Enjolras, petted the cat Joly was holding, and high-fived Cosette, all before he saw Prouvaire. “Whoa! It’s the Glow Cloud!”

The requisite chorus of “All Hail!” went up as his friends trickled past and into the living room.

“Rad…” Prouvaire whispered as they took in the sight. A banner reading ‘Science is NEAT’ hung from a wall over a table covered with all sorts of snacks, and a couple bottles that were probably wine. A small speaker was blasting out that one song about the bus being late, almost too loudly. There were various posters with slogans on them hung all over the walls.

“Welcome to Night Vale!” Courfeyrac ran over to stand on a couch, grinning broadly and waving around a toy microphone. “Everything here is _probably_ not safe. And angels still _probably_ don’t exist.” Bossuet looked mildly disappointed at that, and Joly patted him on the arm. “Anyone got any announcements to make?

“I brought corn muffins!” Musichetta volunteered, showing off the tray. “With more salt than last time!”

“Awesome! I’m glad the angels—who don’t exist, still—didn’t take your salt this time! And with a final note that my boyfriend _still_ has perfect hair, let the party begin!”

As everyone set about to chatting or snagging food, and Gavroche glared suspiciously at what seemed to be bread on the snack table, Enjolras sidled over to Courfeyrac. “Hello there, friend!”

The shorter young man shrieked and jumped off the couch. “Noooooo!” He grabbed Combeferre’s arm. “Go back into whatever unholy vortex you came from!”

Combeferre laughed, shaking his arm out of his boyfriend’s reach, as Enjolras only kept smiling. “I’m going to go get some snacks. You two have fun.” He headed off towards the snack table, where Cosette and Musichetta were conversing, and Courfeyrac flopped dramatically over the arm of the couch.

“Ugh. Stupid scientist boyfriends. They keep disappearing.” He then propped himself up on his elbows and beamed at Enjolras. “You look nice. Thanks for coming. Where’d you get those contacts?”

“Grantaire got them for me.”

“Oooooh!” Courfeyrac drawled, smirking wickedly. “And how are things between you and Grantaire? Anything interesting happen I should know about?” He prodded his friend with a finger, still smirking. “A grand confession, maybe?”

“No!” Enjolras protested. “We’re not… no, we’re not—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. I know for a _fact_ that— hey, wait a second.” He pulled out his phone, pressing a couple buttons and stopping the music. All attention turned to him, which was no feat, seeing as he was decked out in improbably shades of purple and brandishing the toy microphone. “Hey, everybody!” he shouted, standing on the couch for a second time. “A message from our sponsor!”

Before continuing, he cleared his throat and prodded Enjolras with the tip of his Converse. “Our sponsor being me having a functional relationship. Anyway! We _all_ know that Enjolras and Grantaire are in love. We can all tell. We are inevitable.”

“Urgh…” the blond muttered as he buried his head in the couch cushions. “Someone pass me some of that wine. I desire to forget.”

\---

The party grew increasingly more insane as the night went on, jokes and puns weaved into almost every sentence, and someone yelling about the Glow Cloud (ALL HAIL!) every few minutes.

Azelma had initiated some sort of minor uprising about halfway through, which was a sort of distraction, but it ended almost as quickly as it began when Gavroche pretended to phone the librarians.

Cosette, Marius, and Éponine were sitting close on the couch Enjolras had been draped on for at least an hour now, whispering to each other.

From behind them, Joly sneezed deafeningly, and the cat he was holding took it as an opportunity to jump out of his arms. “No! The cat has escaped!” He shoved his tissue into his pocket and raced after the cat, who was sprinting all around the room causing chaos. Bossuet tripped over it, only staying on his feet due to Musichetta grabbing his arm.

“I got it!” Courfeyrac shouted triumphantly, almost spilling his drink as he picked up the black cat. “Tada! I am holding a cat!”

Joly finally caught up and took the cat into his arms. “I think I’m allergic to cats.” He sneezed again, now having a tighter grip on the animal. “Yeah.”

\---

As the bus song played for what was surely the thousandth time, a ferocious knocking was heard on the door. “PARIS CITY POLICE!”

“Oh schist.” Courfeyrac muted the music again, then made his way carefully to the door. “Uh… hi there.”

Officer Javert entered the room, surveyed it and the alarmed people within, and then sighed. “Oh, it’s you.”

Gavroche was asleep next to the snack table, which was some relief, as if he had been awake, he’d probably interject with some snarky comment at this point.

Javert shook his head slowly. “Another noise complaint. You kids really need to stop having these parties.”

Courfeyrac now look visibly relieved. “You always say that. But I think you like seeing us.”

“Not this late at night.” The officer shrugged his shoulders. “Though I… well, it’s good to see you all are doing well.” As though he had said too much, he turned to leave, but Courfeyrac grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey wait. Will you take a group picture of us? We’ll finish up our party soon if you do, pinky promise.”

“Fine,” Javert grumbled, taking the camera that Prouvaire handed him. “But I’m only doing this so that you will finally shut up.”

“Thanks!” Courfeyrac grinned and scampered off to stand with the rest of his friends. Someone had awakened Gavroche, and the boy was glaring suspiciously at Javert from behind his dark glasses. Joly brandished the cat in his extended arms, Musichetta and Bossuet grinning beside him. Prouvaire sat in front of the group, costume glowing like crazy. Enjolras put one arm around Grantaire’s shoulder, causing the latter to look mildly alarmed for a second and their friends to start giggling. “Say Big Rico’s, everyone!”

“BIG RICO’S!”

They devolved into laughter after Javert snapped the photo. “O…kay…” the officer said, carefully handing the phone back to a cackling Prouvaire. “Well. You kids get some sleep, alright?” He made his way out of the apartment, shutting the door and leaving a gaggle of giggling students behind him.

After calming down, everyone milled about for a few minutes more, eating the last few remaining snacks or putting on their shoes, then making their excuses and leaving. Courfeyrac waved off Enjolras and Grantaire with, possibly, more smirking than necessary.

\---

“That was… that was _epic_!” Courfeyrac squealed after everyone had left, flinging himself onto the couch and pulling Combeferre down with him. “Wasn’t it?”

“Sure was.” Combeferre pulled a quilted blanket over the two of them, and his boyfriend scooted closer. “We really ought to do this again.”

“Hah.” Courfeyrac yawned, then leaned his head on Combeferre’s shoulder. “Yeah. We’ll clean up tomorrow. Now is sleeping time.”

With a small smile, Combeferre kissed Courfeyrac’s forehead. “Goodnight, Night Vale."

**Author's Note:**

> honestly Javert being a dad-ish figure to the Amis is something I need to write more  
> hey I kept meaning to actually name Musichetta's cat and then I didn't-- anyone got any suggestions?  
> also I wish I could draw people without them looking awful bc I really want to draw that group picture
> 
> "And I would like to say in the most nebulous terms possible, and with no real-world implications or insinuations of objective meaning: Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight."


End file.
